After a long day of theme parkin’ in the hot sun, followed by drinks at the hotel, followed by drinks on a boat, we decided to take our drinking out to Lan Kwai Fong, one of Hong Kong’s best spots for nightlife. Let’s call it their version of Bourbon Street just to set the stage. We grabbed a couple of drinks, walked around the area checking out bars and people watching, and shortly after decided to call it a day. Little did we know that the evening was about to take a dramatic turn for the worse.
Now keep in mind that Jenny and I have basically been attached at the hip for over five months now. We could literally count on our fingers the number of hours spent apart since Christmas, and by apart I mean one of us on the other side of the room. We’ve spent weeks … months in tents and cars and tiny hostel rooms without a single incident worth mentioning, but not this night. Just two days shy of our return to Chicago and at the end of a near perfect day, and near perfect trip, Jenny spotted a (or should I say “another”) rack of dresses on our walk back to the hotel. A rack of dresses that she really wanted me to take an interest in. I don’t know if it was that last beer, or the heat, or nearing the end of our trip, or just sheer stupidity (pretty sure the latter) but I felt I had been asked “this one? or this one?” one too many times and my self-edit button went on the fritz. Instead of smiling, pointing and saying “that one” a few more times before a good night’s sleep, I found myself on a nice little rant in the middle of a crowded street. A rant that turned into a back and forth that turned into a full blown argument that lasted the better part of our tram ride home.
Those of you who know me best have probably still never seen me in a bad mood. It’s about as frequent leap year, but when it comes around I put on an Oscar worthy performance of self-righteous and sarcastic a-hole who doesn’t know when to shut his trap. You were wondering why I have a photo of said rack? Well, obviously in my commitment to the role I had to put on a nice photo shoot mocking my own enthusiasm. I’m pretty sure if her brother’s wedding wasn’t in a week, Jenny would have gladly let me have a black eye for my Hong Kong souvenir. Word of advice guys, however sincere you are trying to be, “I - honestly - don’t - care!!!” is not ever gonna be an acceptable (or intelligent) answer — no matter how long you draw out each word.
Luckily, we woke up this morning still legally bound to each other and decided to leave the night of May 15th in the history books where it belongs. We then celebrated our rekindled love by spending the day — you guessed it — shopping. And I’m almost positive I can tell you the thread count of every dress she tried on today.